


i’ve had no love like your love

by sakurapinks



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, the works yk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurapinks/pseuds/sakurapinks
Summary: five times they talk about marriage, and one time they follow through.





	1. i. my heart and i don’t get along

“Hanging in there, Pika?” Leorio calls over clanking metal, pushing back a dagger-wielding assailant, wearing a crooked grin. The dumbass charges forward again, and this time Leorio disarms the man with ease, sinking his knife into the other man’s shoulder blade. Face contorted with pain, the man falls face down, knocked out.

“Of—“ Kurapika cuts themself off with a grunt, quickly whipping their dowsing chain to knock a few people off their feet. “—course!” They glance down at the unconscious man by Leorio’s feet, eyes glimmering with mirth. “I thought you swore off of killing people, Dr. Paladiknight?” 

“I didn’t say anything about paralyzing them!” Out it of the corner of his eye, he notices someone approaching from Kurapika’s side. Faster than light, Leorio throws his dagger and watches it lodge into the person’s stomach, and they stop abruptly, twitching before collapsing. 

“Thanks— get behind me!” Kurapika barely has time to express their thanks before another barrage of bullets surrounds the pair. They press their back to Leorio’s, and raise their right hand above their heads. Flicking their wrist, Kurapika spins the chain as fast as they can manage, catching the bullets and redirecting them in the same breath. 

They continue for a while longer— They’re back to back, moving in sync, holding off their enemies like a dance set to an untimely requiem. Kurapika catches bullets with their chains, Leorio parries swords with his knives, the two protect each other’s blind spots with terrifying accuracy— they were partners, after all, made to complement each other’s weaknesses. 

There’s a lull in the battle, a pause to catch their breaths as the gang members stop charging out of the trees. In the distance, bright blue lights up the night sky, followed by a terrifying crash and hysterical shouts— it’s likely Killua, eradicating the last of the gang members. Kurapika exhales, leaning against Leorio for support. The only remnants of battle on Kurapika was a scratch from a blade dodged too slowly, and their shoulder nicked by a stray bullet. They weren’t used to long fights with their Nen, though, and exhaustion sets in quicker than they care to admit. 

Lapses in concentration lead to fatal mistakes. Kurapika had this drilled into their brain from day one, yet still, after the heat of battle, they let themself slip. They don’t catch the momentary spike of nen, or the silent whistle of the bullet leaving it’s chamber. They only catch a panicked yell— “Kurapika!” he says, a desperate sort of rasp— then an arc of crimson explodes from Leorio’s midsection, a macabre firework stark across the pitch black sky. 

“Leorio!” 

Bottomless rage bubbles forth. They’re no longer thinking, no longer caring to think, and they rise like Ares incarnate, eyes smoldering with scarlet hatred. They feel Emperor Time activate on its own, the characteristic suffocating wildfire unleashed in their chest, and in an instant they have Judgement Chain’s blade pointing at the sniper’s heart. 

“Kill yourself,” Kurapika, anger sharper than a blade on their tongue, imposes the condition without a second thought, “Now. Or I will kill you.”

The sniper refuses, and like a bloody parallel to Leorio’s injury, crimson spatters gracelessly across the sky. 

LeorioLeorioLeorioLeorioLeorio— Kurapika drops to their knees, the burn of Emperor Time fading to ash as they fall, and stumbles toward Leorio. A choked sob leaves them, scarlet eyes dragging over the other’s limp form. 

“Please, not another,” The words leave their lips in a dry whisper, a desperate plea to their uncaring God, “Damnit Leorio! Keep your eyes open!” Kurapika pulls him into their lap, heart constructing painfully as blood trails behind, soaking the earth a bright crimson. It’s too similar, they think, too similar to the night of the Kurta massacre. The edges of their vision wavers, warped with burning tears threatening to spill over. 

“You can’t die here—“ Guilt wrenches Kurapika’s chest. It should’ve been them, it should’ve been them now, and it should’ve been them back then. Fighting against violently shivering hands, they tear a piece of cloth from their shirt, and presses it over the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. “Not like this!”

Kurapika feels bile, hot and bitter, rise to their throat as for a moment, their mother’s eyeless corpse overlaps Leorio’s pallid features. A sob bubbles up, and hot tears spill over like a broken dam. They curl forward, squeezing their eyes shut, “Not... Not because of me!” 

A wet cough comes from beneath them, followed by a shaky wheeze, and Kurapika snaps up to meet Leorio’s tired, tired forest green gaze. Relief spreads as another sob forces its way through their lips. Leorio’s mouth, stained with blood, curl into a wry grin. That stupid goddamn grin. 

“Me...?” Leorio’s voice is barely above a rasp, but to Kurapika, he sounds like home. “Dying here?” He coughs out a laugh, wet with blood, but full of life regardless. It sends a pang straight to Kurapika’s heart, as they hang onto every word. “It’s gonna take more than that to kill me... Besides—“

Leorio moves a shaky hand across his stomach, lacing his fingers with Kurapika’s own. He’s warm. Kurapika’s tears fall in fat droplets onto their connected hands, blood stains turning light pink as they mesh. Leorio taps the other’s ring finger once, twice, three times before managing another breathy laugh. “Can’t die before... I marry you.” 

“Dumbass—!” Kurapika snaps wetly, an empty insult in lieu of the nameless, confusing feelings threatening to spill forth. “I’ll never marry you if you say that!” 

Leorio seems to understand, a bright smile lighting up his face, endearment written in the way his eyes glint with understanding. “Whatever you say babe.”


	2. ii. tomorrow will be kinder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: panic attack descriptions

Leorio starts awake, heart jumping to his throat. Someone is screaming and the bed shakes, but his sleep-drunk mind doesn’t quite put the pieces together until he flicks the lamp on, and the light casts tired ghost-like shadows over Kurapika’s struggling frame. His heart clenches. The bad days have been coming further and far between, but they still rear their ugly heads on the darkest nights. 

“Pika, babe,” Leorio murmurs and reaches out. “Wake up.” Kurapika doesn’t seem to hear him, a grunt that sounds like ‘Gon,’ a gasp that sounds too much like ‘run’ escaping them. He winces, suddenly understanding the content of their dream— intense helplessness bubbles to the surface then, and he finds himself suffocated. 

“It’s me,” A gentle shake, then a squeeze of Kurapika’s shoulder. “Wake up, you’re dreaming” 

Scarlet eyes snap open, burning bright enough to cast a slight tint of red across their room, terror glinting in unshed tears. Kurapika bolts upright, gaze wildly scanning the room, as if ascertaining their surroundings, before landing on Leorio. Their lip quivers. 

“Gon— Killua—“ Kurapika grabs at Leorio’s hand, frantic, and chokes, their voice rough with sleep and wet with held back sobs. Words die on their tongue, mouth moving to form sentences that refuse to come as panic blows their pupils wide. 

“Ayka,” Leorio whispers softly, and laces their fingers. He hopes to god that the Kurta term of endearment would soothe Kurapika, even a little. “It’s okay, they’re safe. They’re at Whale Island visiting Mito-san, remember?” 

Their hands lay interlocked on Leorio’s lap. Silence stretches between them as Kurapika attempts to slow their breathing. Images of Gon and Killua, struggling in an impassive Chrollo’s choke-hold, smolders brightly behind their eyelids. Kurapika’s stomach churns anxiously, and they fight the urge to rake their nails down the length of their arm— it was a habit Leorio got them, painstakingly, to quit. 

“Do you want me closer?” Leorio asks quietly, voice tender. He wants desperately to draw them close, to whisper that they were safe and loved;but, he understood the space Kurapika always asked for, even if his heart clenched at the sight of them struggling on their own. The other knits their eyebrows and opens their mouth to speak but quickly decides against it, instead squeezing Leorio’s hand tightly and shaking their head.

“There— was a me before,” Kurapika croaks as their eyes glaze over, and Leorio feels as if he’s being stared through; scarlet gaze trained on a past far out of reach. Their hand, shaking quietly, retracts from Leorio’s. It comes to rest above their heart, stilling for a moment before forming a fist. Leorio blinks, and suddenly clinking chains adorn Kurapika’s fingers. They glint harshly in the faint lamplight. “And there was a me after.” 

Kurapika’s red-tinted eyes widen, surprised at the sudden materialization of their weapon. Flexing their fingers, they attempt to will the chains away, but to no avail. They make a strangled noise of frustration, and Leorio’s heart breaks all over again. Their voice comes choked, “I’m so sorry this is all you know.”

“Pika it’s—“ Leorio starts, but the words die on his lips as he notes the tears lining Kurapika’s bright red eyes. He hates it when they cry, hates it so much, it fills him with such indescribable rage that he wants to pull Kurapika close and bury his knuckles into each and every one of the Spiders’ stomachs himself. 

Kurapika’s hand rises to cup Leorio’s jaw, and their thumb rubs circles into the stubbly skin there as tears spill over. A storm rages in their gaze, bright angry crimson shifting into something darker, mournful. It hurts to watch. Leorio can’t look away. 

“It’s not okay,” Kurapika murmurs. They pause for a moment, pressing their painfully chapped lips together, before continuing, desperately, “I’m sorry I can’t give you normal— I’m sorry, Leo, I took that from you—“ They cut themself off with a gasp, their terrible attempt at restraining a sob. Their chest feels tight, like the air was ripped from their lungs all at once. The room begins to shift, and Kurapika doesn’t realize that they’re hyperventilating until their hand slips from the other’s face. 

Leorio doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t falter when he catches their hand, turning his head to press a kiss into their clammy palm. Three kisses, one for each freckle on their skin. “What did you take from me, Pika, that I don’t already have with you?” He murmurs, careful, low, against the almost feverishly hot skin. “‘Normality?’” The word drags against his tongue, “Can’t miss something I never had… that I’ve never wanted.” He gave up any semblance of ‘normal’ the moment he signed up for the Hunter Exam. Even before that, really. He threw away ‘normal’ the moment Pietro died and he swore to save as many people as fucking possible before the universe got there first. 

“Leorio—“ Kurapika starts. Leorio cuts them off with a look, brows angled like he’s trying to appear intimidating, but forest green eyes reveal a tenderness saved for only Kurapika. 

“We make our own ‘Normal’, dumbass.” He trails down, kissing the inside of their wrist, and looks up to a dumbstruck Kurapika, questioning, asking permission to continue. Leorio’s met with a tentative nod. 

“Our normal is awful work schedules that shit us out after midnight.” A kiss to their forearm. His stubble drags against Kurapika’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“It’s the slow three a.m. sex after, even when we’re dead tired, the bruises and the hickies you leave on my neck.” A kiss to the inside of their elbow. Leorio looks up to find Kurapika’s eyes softening— blinding red fading, transitioning to almost pink. “Which are a pain to hide, by the way, especially when I work in Pedes.” If he squints, he could make out a slight smile working its way onto Kurapika’s bitten red lips. 

“It’s going on adventures with our goddamn kids and coming back busted up but satisfied.” A kiss to their shoulder. Gon, Killua and Alluka were their kids, even though Leorio still has doubts about who adopted who. Sometimes a family is made of five people thrown together by shared traumas and the unyielding universe. Sometimes that’s all anyone needed. 

“The you now is all I want... it’s the you I fell in love with.” Leorio takes their hand back, bringing it to his lips. The nen chains are cold against his skin, but he presses a kiss to each knuckle as he murmurs, “The you ‘after’ is my ‘now’— and it’s all I’ll ever want to spend the rest of my days with.”

“Sounds like a proposal, ayka.” Tears bubble over once more, blush heating their face, but this time the smile gracing their lips allows Leorio to exhale in relief. Dark still lingers behind their eyes, a quiet maroon festering, holding back the blush pink from shining brightly as it usually does. Leorio wants to kiss it away. 

“Do you want it to be?” Leorio reaches out, expression soft, and tucks a strand of gold behind their ear.

With a choked, wet chuckle, Kurapika shuffles closer, nestling their face into the crook of Leorio’s neck. Their arms come to loop loosely around the other’s waist; momentarily, he feels the chains press into his side, but within the next second the cold pressure dissipates. He returns the embrace, relief coursing through him, and tilts his head to press a soft kiss into Kurapika’s hair. 

“Maybe.” Comes the reply, whispered into Leorio’s skin, followed by a soft kiss to his neck. The touch lingers there and burns hot as Leorio drinks in the implication of that response. His lips tug into a tentative smile. 

Maybe it was time to start ring shopping.


	3. iii. before the world catches up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol

The alcohol thrums through Kurapika’s veins, leaving a comforting warmth in its wake. Temples burn, cheeks flushed as they lift their fifth (sixth? they lost count) drink of the night to kiss-red lips. They were always a lightweight, but they’re grateful for the the fuzz in their mind keeping the ugly thoughts away; hopes for revenge and Zodiac responsibilities are shoved neatly into a corner. For now there was only the half-empty bottle of tequila, the bowl of lime slices, and the solid warmth next to them— Leorio. 

Leorio. Kind, wonderful Leorio who looks at them like they hung the stars in the sky. Who was made of equal parts pure light and determination. The anchor that kept Kurapika from drifting too far into the sea of bloodlust and hatred they held too close to their heart. Their tequila-muddled brain could wax poetic forever about him— the terrifying part about that? They really didn’t mind. 

Speaking of Leorio, he was saying something again, lips moving to form words that Kurapika isn’t quite hearing. They decide they’ve heard enough for now, and that the dining-room chair digs a bit too far into their back. They rise from their seat unsteadily, wobbling a bit, before crossing the short distance between them to take Leorio’s face in their hands. A soft laugh escapes them, bordering on a giggle, as their thumb brushes over stubble. They like that about Leorio. Then again, they like a lot about Leorio. 

“Shh, kiss m’ again,” Kurapika slurs and leans in to press their lips together. They quietly delight in the way Leorio complies immediately. Their hand snakes around Leorio neck, drawing themself into his lap. Leorio moves to play with the longer strands of Kurapika’s hair, twirling blond around his finger. A swipe of the other’s tongue across their lips has them tangling their fingers in the front of Leorio’s dress shirt, trying to bring him closer yet. 

Leorio pulls away from their kiss first, drawing a disgruntled noise from Kurapika. He laughs at their dazed pout, and slides a hand forward to cup their alcohol-flushed face. His eyes twinkle with something Kurapika can’t quite name. They hate when that happens.

“Twenty questions,” Leorio murmurs, a crooked grin spreading across his lips. His lips. Kurapika really wanted to kiss him again; this was quite an unappreciated interruption. Besides, they’ve known each other for years now— was there truly anything they hadn’t shared?

“Uh, yes— there are!” Leorio slurs, a little bit too loudly, and catches them by surprise. Kurapika certainly didn’t remember saying that last part out loud. Perhaps alcohol truly made people ‘loose lipped.’ Lips. Ah, they hoped fleetingly that Leorio would soon lose interest in whatever piqued his curiosity. They lean forward again, hoping to convince Leorio to abandon his game with the promise of a kiss, but they’re unfortunately met with a thumb over their mouth. 

“Don’ make that face Pika,” Leorio hums, and draws yet another displeased grunt from Kurapika as he gestures for them to sit back at their chair. No kisses and no Leorio? They made a face; it looked like it was going to be a sad night. 

“‘ssa drinking game Cheadle taught me, we each ask a question and— and,” Leorio seems to lose his train of thought, staring into the clinking ice cubes in his cup. He throws back a roaring laugh, bright and endearing as always. It’s about enough to convince Kurapika. “Don’ remember the rest! Just take shots after each question and get drunk.” That sounded like a very ‘Leorio’ drinking game— freestyle with the sole purpose of getting drunk. No matter. Kurapika made it his goal to get a rise out of him, perhaps their drunken self would make it easier to flirt shamelessly. Maybe then Leorio would reconsider the whole ‘no kissing’ thing. 

Kurapika leans their elbow on the table, resting their chin in their palm. They raise an eyebrow, still pouting, and gesture for Leorio to start pouring shots. Leorio perks up immediately at that, a big, goofy smile lighting up his face. God help them, Kurapika fights back their own smile— he was so, so damnably cute.

“Favorite color?” Leorio downs a shot, shivering before pressing a slice of lime to his lips. Wow, what Kurapika would give to be that lime right now. He gestures for them to follow his lead.

As instructed, they take the shot, alcohol burning as it goes down, and contemplates the answer to the mundane question. It seemed odd to them that they never bothered to share the answer before. Perhaps a stupid game of twenty questions was actually in order. 

Kurapika meets the other’s gaze, a grin perking their lips as mischief dances in their tone. “Dark green,” they all but sing, happily watching Leorio’s expression morph from confusion to embarrassment in seconds. This should be fun. 

“You... can’t just—!” Leorio trips over his words, and Kurapika cuts him off smugly, shifting their legs to bump against the other’s under the table. “But I can,” The words come easy, the heavy fog of alcohol keeping their own embarrassment at bay. They pour the shots this time, overly generous with the amount of tequila in each glass. 

“Favorite quote?” They ask the first thing that comes to mind, and they both throw back the alcohol simultaneously. When Leorio’s shit-eating grin that follows matches their own level of haughtiness, Kurapika knows they’re fucked. 

Leorio speaks carefully, forming words Kurapika only dared to whisper against Leorio’s lips under the moonlight. It was an intimate phrase in Kurta, meaning devotion, love, passion, undying dedication, and everything else in between in a single breath. And god, it sounded so beautiful coming from Leorio, they couldn’t help the pink that flashed across their eyes, or the blush that crept up their cheeks. 

“Leo,” Kurapika squeaks, but a genuine smile finds itself creeping across their lips, “That’s unfair.” A soft laugh escapes them before they can think better of it. Light and airy, it sounded more like a giggle than anything, but Kurapika would be damned sooner than they admitted to giggling. Leorio stares back at them with a lopsided smile, so bright and absolutely blissful that it may as well have ‘hopelessly in love’ written across in neon— and Kurapika desperately wanted to wipe it off of him. 

As Kurapika ponders the pros and cons of grabbing Leorio by the collar of that irritating white button-up shirt and kissing him silly, the other pours their third round of shots. They groan, “I don’ know how much more I can drink.” Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, they pull the glass of tequila closer, readying themself for the burn. 

“Last one, promise,” So much for twenty questions. Leorio’s eyes twinkle in the low light of their kitchen; even he looked fucked up, flushed from the neck up and disheveled. Oh. The disheveled part was probably Kurapika’s fault. “Pika, what’s your last name?”

Kurapika tilts their head, vaguely confused. Hadn’t they been over this before? “Last name?” Their inquiry is met with a nod, grin still in place. They consider for a moment answering with something sarcastic, but fail to come up with anything even slightly teasing. Instead, they say simply, “Don’t have one,” with a shrug. 

“Well, that’s fine,” Leorio closes his eyes, dramatically waving his hand for effect. Kurapika still couldn’t see where this was going. Leorio cracks an eye open, peering over his tinted tea-shades, as he smirks proudly, “I can give you mine, if you want.”

A pause. 

Then, realization hits Kurapika like a truck, and they feel themselves explode into bright pink. “Did- was that a proposal?” It takes all of their self control to not yell loud enough to wake the block, but it still leaves their ears ringing in the aftermath. Leorio remains smug, looking into the distance like he’s trying too hard to look cool.

“Maybe,” Is all Leorio says, coolly, unfairly composed. 

“You’re insufferable,” Kurapika groans with embarrassment and deflates, putting their head down on the table. Their head was already spinning with the alcohol— now they were sure to have a heart attack. The cool table top provides some relief to the pounding headache, and they press their cheek into the glass. That was nice. Nicer than Leorio, right now. 

“I’ll be back, stay right there!” Leorio says, oddly shaky. Kurapika assumes he runs off to throw up, as they begin to drift in and out of consciousness. A long nap seemed about good; preferably, they wanted to spend the rest of the weekend in bed with Leorio, talking about nothing and existing in the same space, making up for lost time. Distantly, they hear Leorio return to the kitchen, panting. But sleep overcomes them so quickly they don’t hear a small, velvet box snapping closed, something like disappointment dripping on Leorio’s murmured curses. 

Kurapika does, however, feel the comforting warmth of Leorio’s fingers running through their hair until they drift off, and the soft kiss he plants on their forehead. They hear the almost-inaudible whisper, words pressed into their flushed skin like a promise: 

“I’ll ask again soon,” a pause, “love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> big thank you to Ez ([winderrific on tumblr!](https://winderrific.tumblr.com/)) for keeping me going by providing ideas and art!!


End file.
